I walked down the stairs, papers in hand.

In the living room, Reginald and Felicia were on the couch. Leo was curled up in Felicia's lap.

They looked like a perfect family.

And I was the intruder.

"Rosabella?" Reginald froze when he saw me. "Why aren't you asleep?"

Felicia immediately clutched Leo tighter, as if I were some kind of monster.

"Sister... I'm sorry, I just needed Reginald to take me home, I didn't mean to wake you..." Her voice trembled, her eyes red-rimmed.

Still such a good actress.

"Are you angry with me?" Reginald stood, frowning at me. "Because I brought Felicia back?"

"No."

I held the papers out to him.

"What's this?" Reginald took them, confused, not opening them.

"Just some documents. They need your signature."

Reginald glanced at the cover, assuming it was a deed for the estate or some asset agreement.

His expression instantly softened.

He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescending pity. "The villa on Lake Como. You always liked it there." He stroked my cheek, like I was a pet. "And the Swiss account. Is ten million enough to start?"

He thought I just wanted some financial security.

"And that Greek island, the one you said you wanted to photograph at sunset," Reginald went on, his tone growing softer. "It can all be yours."

In his eyes, I was just a wife feeling insecure because of Felicia's presence. A problem to be solved with money.

"Just sign," I said.

Reginald didn't even read the document. He just picked up a pen.

"Of course. It was all yours to begin with."

He was about to sign his name—

"Don't!"

A small body suddenly launched itself at me.

Leo, with all the force his three-year-old body could muster, slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.

"Bad woman!" he shrieked, standing over me, his little face contorted with rage. "Family traitor! You can't have our money!"

I fell backward, my knee hitting the sharp corner of the coffee table.

Blood seeped out.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to the feeling of my heart being ripped in two.

This was my son. The child I carried for nine months and fought to bring into this world. And he was calling me a traitor.

It was just like at his school. The memory flashed, sharp and painful. I’d gone to see him, just days after getting out. I found him bullying a smaller kid.

"My dad is the Don! You mess with me?"

"You're an orphan!" Leo had laughed, a cruel, vicious sound. "Orphans are meant to be stepped on!"

When I pulled him away, he pointed at me and screamed, "Liar! You're the bitch trying to ruin our family!"

The other teachers and parents all stared at me, their eyes filled with judgment. In that moment, I understood. Felicia had completely poisoned my son.

Blood dripped from my knee, staining the carpet.

Even though I knew my son wasn't the boy I dreamed he'd be, my heart still ached.

"Rosabella!" Reginald rushed over to help me up.

"Is this your idea of a good upbringing?" I looked at Reginald, my voice ice cold. "Is this what Felicia taught him?"

Reginald's face darkened. As if to appease me, he quickly signed the papers, then looked down at Leo.

"Leo, apologize to her! Now!"

"No!" Leo hid behind Felicia. "She's the bad woman! Mama, don't let her take our home!"

Mama.

He called Felicia Mama.

"I'm so sorry, sister..." Felicia held Leo, tears in her eyes. "It's my fault, I didn't raise him right..."

"Don't say sorry to her!" Leo yelled. "Mama, you can't bow to bad people!"

That one stung.

It was just like when we were kids. Father always accusing me of bullying Felicia, forbidding her from apologizing to her "vicious sister."

"Leo!" Reginald's voice grew sterner. "She is my wife! The Donna of this family! You will show her respect!"

Leo froze, clearly scared by Reginald's anger.

But I was done with this whole charade.

I stood up, dragging my injured leg, and started for the stairs.

Behind me, I heard Reginald's voice.

"Leo, you listen to me! Rosabella is the Donna of this family. Everything we have is hers! You will respect her!"

I stopped and glanced back.

Leo was looking at the floor, muttering, "I know," but his face was full of hate.

Reginald didn't come home.

But I slept soundly.

For the first time in three years.

As morning light filled the room, I started packing.

Jewelry, gowns, skincare—all the expensive things that once defined Rosabella Rossi.

I picked up a diamond necklace. Reginald's gift for my twenty-first birthday.

I used to treasure it. Now it just felt heavy.

The room was exactly as I'd left it three years ago.

Reginald hadn't even moved my things.

Was it sentimentality? Or guilt?

"Ma'am, the Boss wants you downstairs," Marco, the butler, said through the door. "Mr. Rossi is here."

My father was here?

I changed into a simple black dress and walked downstairs.

In the living room, Magnus sat in the main armchair, his face a thundercloud.

My mother, Maria, stood behind him. Her eyes flickered with something complicated when she saw me.

Reginald sat across from them, looking exhausted.

And Leo was curled in a corner of the sofa, his eyes red and swollen.

It was the first time I'd seen my parents in three years. A lump formed in my throat.

The little girl who just wanted her parents' love seemed to resurface. "Papa, Mama..." I started, my voice strained.

"Rosabella." Magnus's voice was ice. "What did you do last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Leo told us," Magnus’s voice was dangerously low. "He said you locked him in the ice cellar for three hours. For revenge."

The accusation hung in the air, so absurd I couldn't even breathe.

"I did not."

"Leo doesn't lie," Reginald said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. He wouldn't even look at me. "He cried all night. Said he was cold and terrified."

I looked at Leo. The three-year-old boy was staring at me with pure terror in his eyes.

Such good acting. He really was Felicia's student.

"I was in my room all night," I said calmly. "Reginald was not."

"Reginald didn't come to your room last night," my mother said suddenly, her voice soft. "He was in his study all night."

The air froze.

Reginald looked away.

"A child doesn't lie for no reason," Magnus said, standing up. "Rosabella, I know you're angry, but Leo is, after all..."

He stopped.

"After all, what?" I laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. "Say it, Father. After all, what?"

Reginald shifted uncomfortably.

"The family heir?" I pushed. "You can't even say the words 'Leo is my son' anymore, can you?"

"Enough!" Magnus roared. "Will you ever learn?"

He gave a hand signal.

Two of his men stepped forward.

"Administer the family punishment."

"What?" Reginald shot to his feet. "Don Magnus, this is not—"

"She needs to learn a lesson," Magnus said coldly. "Take her to the discipline room."

"No." Reginald stood in front of me. "Rosabella, just apologize. And this will be over."

Apologize?

For something I didn't do?

I looked at Reginald, the man who once promised to protect me for the rest of his life.

"I didn't do it." I pushed past him. "If you've got the guts, just kill me."

Reginald stared at me, shocked.

"Rosabella—"

But the two men had already grabbed me, dragging me toward the basement.

In the discipline room, I was forced onto the bench.

Cold leather straps were fastened around my wrists.

"Twenty lashes," Magnus's voice came from the doorway. "Teach her a lesson."

The whip cracked through the stale air.

A line of fire seared across my back.

I bit down on my lip, hard enough to taste blood. I would not give them the satisfaction of a scream.

The second lash.

The third.

Blood soaked through my dress.

But I would not beg.

Three years in prison taught me that tears and pleading only bring more humiliation.

By the tenth lash, my vision started to blur.

By the fifteenth, I was drifting.

No, I will not give in...

Just then, a small, tearful voice cried out.

"Stop hitting her!"

Leo ran in, his eyes full of tears.

"Papa! Don't hit her anymore!"

Reginald immediately rushed over.

"Stop!"

The man with the whip froze.

"Leo, how did you—"

"It... It was Mama who told me to say it!" Leo sobbed, out of breath. "She told me to go into the ice cellar by myself!"

Dead silence.

I used my last ounce of strength to lift my head. Reginald's face was sheet-white.

Magnus was frozen in place.

"I wasn't locked in!" Leo kept crying. "I lied! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

The world started to spin.

The last thing I saw before I passed out was Reginald rushing toward me, his arms trembling as he caught me.

I woke up in my bedroom. The wounds on my back throbbed.

Reginald was sitting by the bed, his eyes bloodshot.

"You're awake." He reached for my forehead. "How do you feel?"

I flinched away from his touch.

"Is that proof enough?" My voice was a rasp. "My innocence?"

Reginald froze, then gave a bitter laugh.

"Rosabella, just stop," he sighed, the sound utterly exhausted. "Leo is three years old. He saw you getting whipped and panicked. He said it to save you. You should be thanking him."

Thank him? Thank him for framing me, then changing his story when he got scared?

I stared at Reginald, and the last flicker of warmth in my heart went out.

"You still don't believe me."

"It's not about believing you or not—"

"It is!" I pushed myself up, sucking in a breath as the wounds on my back tore. "No matter what the truth is, you will never, ever believe me!"

Reginald's face hardened.

"Fine. Let's say you're telling the truth." He stood up, pacing the room. "But you almost got Felicia killed when she was pregnant, and now you've terrified Leo—"

"I didn't terrify him!"

"Enough!" Reginald spun around. "What's past is past!"

He took a deep breath, sat back down on the bed, and tried to pull me into his arms.

"Rosabella, you will always be my cherished princess." His voice turned soft again, that magnetic tone he thought was so charming. "As long as you stop going after Felicia, we can start over. Just like before."

Start over?

In his mind, everything was my fault.

I was the vicious woman "going after" Felicia.

I was the sinner who needed to be "forgiven."

"Felicia lost her parents when she was young. Our family took her in," Reginald continued. "She needs protection more than you do. You need to learn to be more generous."

I was framed, thrown in prison for three years, had my son taken from me, and now I had to be generous?

"Rosabella?" Reginald waited. When I didn't answer, he asked, "Are you listening to me?"

I looked at him. I had nothing left to say.

This man would never get it.

In his heart, Felicia would always be the poor, helpless girl who needed saving.

And I would always be the villain. The vicious sister who had to step aside.

Reginald waited a bit longer, his face growing dark.

"I get it." He stood up, his tone turning cold and hard. "You're still angry with me."

He walked to the door, then turned back.

"I'm going to Felicia's gallery. She was terrified by what happened last night. She needs someone."

Was that a threat? Or a test?

"Go," I said calmly.

Reginald's pupils shrank. He clearly hadn't expected that.

The old me would have cried, screamed, done anything to stop him from seeing Felicia.

The new me was perfectly still.

"You really don't care?" His voice was laced with disbelief.

"Why should I?"

Reginald just stood there, his face getting darker and darker.

"Fine. Good." He let out a cold laugh. The door slammed shut behind him.

I leaned back against the pillows and closed my eyes.

A few hours later, I woke up to a series of texts.

Four of them. All from Felicia.

[You bitch, can't you see Reginald really loves me?]

[Why are you still fighting me for him? Didn't you suffer enough in prison?]

[He promised he was coming to my gallery. What did you do to stop him?]

[I'm going to show you who Reginald really cares about.]

I deleted the messages. It was all so pathetic.

What was she even trying to do?

The wounds on my back were still bleeding slightly. The painkillers made me drowsy.

My eyelids grew heavy. I fell into a deep sleep.

I don't know how long I was out before a piercing alarm went off.

I shot up in bed. The air was thick with smoke.

Acrid, choking smoke.

I jumped out of bed and saw the orange glow of fire painting the sky outside my window.

The manor was on fire.

No, just my wing. The east wing.

"Damn it!"

I raced to the door, grabbing the handle. The metal was already hot. I twisted.

It wouldn't budge.

I peered through the crack. A flaming beam had collapsed, barricading the door. Trapping me.

"Reginald!" I pounded on the door. "Reginald! Help!"

I could hear chaos downstairs. Footsteps, shouting.

"Boss! Miss Felicia is trapped in the living room!"

"Quick! Get the fire extinguishers!"

"The west wing fire is under control!"

"What about the east wing?"

"The east wing is too dangerous! The whole thing's about to collapse!"

I kept pounding.

"Reginald! I'm in here! I'm trapped!"

My voice was weak, lost in the smoke.

Then, I heard my father’s voice, raw with panic. "Reginald, please! Get Felicia! Save her first!"

"Reginald..." My call was a choked whisper, eaten by the smoke.

Silence.

Then, footsteps. Hurrying away from me. Toward her.

The smoke grew thicker. I started coughing violently.

Flames were licking the edges of the room. The carpet caught fire.

I finally understood.

Felicia was behind this.

She wanted to show me who Reginald would save when it was a matter of life and death.

The room was getting hotter. My lungs felt like they were on fire.

As the flames reached the bed, I grabbed the crystal vase from the nightstand and threw it at the floor-to-ceiling window.

The sound of shattering glass was tiny against the roar of the fire.

Cold air rushed in, giving me a moment's relief from the smoke.

I carefully crawled toward the edge of the balcony.